


Unexpected Warmth

by Periazhad



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alpha Jason Todd, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Enemy to Caretaker, Fear of Rape, Hair Pets, Hurt/Comfort, Kneeling, Omega Tim Drake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:08:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29866857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Periazhad/pseuds/Periazhad
Summary: Tim's pissed that someone turned up the heat in the Tower, but gets a little distracted when Red Hood tries to sneak up on him.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 45
Kudos: 476
Collections: Red Hood vs Red Robin





	Unexpected Warmth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [envysparkler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/envysparkler/gifts).



> Envy is stress, so I wrote this for her in the last ninety minutes. It's basically a trust fall for me, because I prefer to sit with my stories and obsessively edit them before posting, but I only read through this twice, maybe three times.

It’s hot in the Tower. Really, really hot. Tim wipes sweat off his forehead, and sighs. Someone must have turned up the heat.

He gets up to go check the thermostat and feels a prickle on the back of his neck. He opens his bo staff mid-spin and blocks a strike. Lady Shiva’s training, paying off again.

“Nice block, Replacement.” The words are friendly, the tone anything but.

Tim steps back to give himself more space to work, but Red Hood isn’t closing again. He’s standing there, to all appearances absolutely relaxed, watching Tim.

How did he get into the Tower?  _ Why _ did he get into the Tower? Robin’s in Gotham often enough.

“What do you want, Hood?” The best defense is a good offense, right? He makes his voice as cold as he can, which is hard with how  _ ridiculously hot _ the Tower is getting.

“A fight, Robin. You going to give me one?”

“Why here? Why not in Gotham?” Hood is blocking the thermostat, and Tim feels irritation rise. A villain has to attack when the heat is on the fritz? Can nothing be easy? He  _ needs  _ to turn down the heat.

“I didn’t want there to be any interruptions.” Hood snarls, the sound oddly mechanized through the filters, and Tim  _ falters. _

Oh, shit. Ice runs through his veins for a moment, a welcome contrast to the heat, before dissipating into pure fear. He lost track of time with the last mission, and filing reports, and worrying about Batman patrolling Gotham alone, and his  _ heat  _ is due today.

Scent patches protect your scent, Tim and Hood are both wearing one, but an Alpha snarl is unmistakable.

He doesn’t fight on his heat, especially not against  _ Alphas. _ Tim and Bruce did some basic training, but that mostly in the case of Ivy’s pollen or getting an unexpected heat and disengaging to get to safety. 

Automatically block Hood’s attacks, dodging a knife, Tim tries to edge towards the door. It would take a miracle for him to win against an Alpha, so he needs to get out a call for help. If he can get out the door, he can run to the nearest comm panel and send out a message, and then just hang on until the rescue. He can do that.

Shoving rising panic down, he sees an opening and darts for the door. Hood snarls, “ _ Replacement,” _ behind him, but Tim forces himself to ignore it as he slams the door shut and sprints.

The comm panel is dark, and so is the next one. Hood catches Tim at the third one, and his heat has progressed far enough he  _ doesn’t even notice _ until Hood sweeps his feet out from under him.

For a long, long moment he looks up at the Red Hood, his body relaxing at the sight of a powerful Alpha, before he yanks control back. Scrambling upright, he backs down the hallway, panic pounding through his body.

When will someone know he’s missing? Hood doesn’t seem to be in any hurry, prowling after him. Tim knows that Hood never leaves anyone alive, once he starts the fight. Batman and Robin have run across a trail of his corpses more than once, but never even a whisper of any survivors.

If Hood went through all the trouble to come here, to the Tower, to get him  _ alone… _ Tim  _ might _ have had a chance, if he wasn’t going into heat, but he doesn’t anymore.

“I came here to  _ fight, _ not to watch you run away.” Hood’s tone is mocking, but Tim can’t make himself care.

“You came here to kill me,” he replies, wondering if the trembling starting in his limbs is fear or just heat. It doesn’t matter, not anymore.

Hood laughs, but doesn’t bother to deny it. Why would he? Tim can’t get out a call for help, so they both know Tim’s going to die. Fear spreads through his body, his heart rate picking up, trembling getting worse. He needs to push it aside, fight through it, buy time, but it’s so much harder with his heat getting worse and worse.

He wants to curl up in a soft nest, and have someone bring him a cool cloth and a snack. He wants to feel  _ safe,  _ and instead he’s looking down the barrel of a gun. 

Literally, it seems.

“Stop running.”

Tim freezes, then lunges into the stairwell, a shot echoing behind him. He can’t even outrun Hood, his legs trembling almost too hard to support him as he tries to sprint down to the next flevel.

Hiding might be an option, but if Hood can lockdown the Tower, he can access the cameras and find Tim. It would buy him some time, but not enough. No one’s expecting Tim, no one’s coming to visit, and no one even checks in with him regularly. He’d never minded that independence, until now.

Tim stumbles out onto the main level, and his mind offers up the last option. The only possible way to buy enough time for a rescue, the only possible way to keep Hood from killing him.

He doesn’t—it’s not what he  _ wants,  _ but he doesn’t want to  _ die, _ either. Tim brushes away tears angrily; the emotional instability of heat must be here.

Their living room has a soft floor, so when Hood—it’s better than the hallway floor. There’s no other exit, but he turns into the room regardless, stopping in the middle of the room and facing the doorway.

Hood slips in behind him, gun still in his hand, and says, “Well, I expected a lot better from you.” 

Tim drops his bo staff, raises his hands, and says, “W—wait, please. Just wait a moment.”

Hood tips his head to the side, as if to say  _ get on with it. _ Tim raises shaking hands to his neck, and slowly peels off his scent blocking patch. A warm scent unfurls into the room and Hood’s gun wavers.

It’s what—it’s what Tim wants, but it’s  _ not _ what he wanted, and a small part of him is disappointed Hood is going to take the bait.

But Hood is just standing there, not getting closer, clearly hesitating. Tim’s never—never done this, before, in or out of heat, but he knows what Alphas like. Swallowing, his throat tight and painful, he closes his eyes as he sinks to his knees, and tips his head to the side. 

A tear slips out from under his closed lid as he holds back more. He has to be sure Hood is going to take the bait. His entire body is shaking now, but he can blame that on the heat, even though he knows better. He tries to pretend he’s in a soft nest, safe, Bruce keeping warm, with Alfred bringing him a popsicle. That’s what happened in his last heat, and it’s a far cry from what’s about to happen.

There’s a hiss of air and footsteps pacing towards him. When they stop, right in front of him, he flinches but doesn’t pull back. A hand traces along his neck and he shudders.

“P—please,” Tim whispers, when Hood continues to hesitate. “Don’t kill me. We can—you can do—something else.” Tears spill freely down his cheeks as he realizes he’s begging for his actual life. He’s begging a villain to  _ rape him _ instead of just killing him. A shiver runs through his body, on top of the trembling, and he recognizes it as a precursor to mental fog of heat. 

It’s not like it is in movies or books, for Tim. He doesn’t beg for a knot, he just wants to be warm and safe.

When Hood steps back, Tim tenses. He’s ready to be thrown to the ground, and—and taken, or for Hood to not want it, and to shoot him instead.

He’s not prepared for warm arms to suddenly scoop him up. On instinct, he leans into the broad chest. It’s—this is  _ Hood, _ and he’s going to rape Tim, and that’s—that is what it is, but for now he can enjoy the warmth and pretend he’s really safe. 

Hood is carrying him through the halls, cradling him so gently, and it feels like he’s being  _ careful  _ with Tim. Tim needs to abandon this fantasy, to brace himself for what is likely to be painful and humiliating and may not even save him from death, but more tears slip out and he presses into Hood’s arms.

“Shhh,” says a voice, not mechanized anymore. Tim opens his eyes to see the helmet is gone, but he’s still wearing a domino. It’s probably better to—without a helmet, it’s probably better, that’s all.

When he finds the door to Tim’s room, Tim flinches back. He doesn’t—not in  _ here _ , where he’ll have to remember— 

“Please, not in here,” he begs, but Hood just sets him gently on the bed.

Tim curls up into a ball, shaking, and Hood climbs on the bed with him. Tim needs to—stop resisting, stop trying to protect himself, and he forces himself to uncurl. He can’t stop weeping, though, and he says, “I’ve—I’ve never—please, don’t hurt, please—I don’t want—” but he  _ does _ want it, because he doesn’t want to die, so he reaches down and starts to push off his pants.

“Stop that.” Hood’s voice is gentle but Tim doesn’t understand. Does that mean—did Hood bring him here just to kill him?

“Please don’t kill me,  _ please,  _ I don’t want to die!” Since Hood doesn’t even seem to want him, Tim curls back up, sobbing.

“It’s going to be okay.”

When Hood gets off the bed, Tim braces for the final shoot. That’s how everything will be okay, right? At least it will be over.

There’s a sound of running water, and Tim doesn’t  _ understand. _ Hood gets back on the bed, so maybe he’s changed his mind, but he just gently pushes Tim’s bangs up and lays a cool cloth on his head.   
  


“Wh—What are you doing?” Tim hiccups. Another shiver runs through his body, and then another, his heat rising, and for once he welcomes the fog.

\--- 

Jason looks down at the tiny, vulnerable Omega.

“I’m taking care of you, kid,” he says, but the kid doesn’t even seem to hear him.

What the fuck was he doing, in  _ heat, _ at the Tower? When the kid peeled off his patch, the scent cut right through Jason’s rage. When he dropped to his knees, a different sort of rage rose up, mostly directed at himself.

What the fuck, attacking a kid in the Tower? Like that fixes any fucking thing? And he scared a kid enough that he offered himself up to be  _ raped  _ to save his life? Jesus fucking  _ christ _ .

Too angry to speak, he just wanted the kid to feel safe, but of course he’s not going to trust  _ Jason, _ especially when Jason can’t seem to  _ say _ anything to him.

Curling around the trembling body, Jason runs a hand through the kid’s sweaty hair. Heats never sounded fun, even with a proper nest and your family to keep you safe. Well, Jason is technically his family, right? Bruce has to have adopted the kid, so they’re brothers. Jason reaches up and peels off his own patch, his scent unfurling into the air.

The kid  _ whimpers,  _ and Jason whispers, “No, it’s not like that. No one is going to touch you while I’m here. You’re safe.”

The kid twists to look at him, but his eyes are glazed with heat and Jason doubts he can see anything clearly. Jason keeps running his hand through his hair, hushing him when he whimpers.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m—I’m sorry I was going to kill you. I was really angry.” The kid flinches. “But I’m not angry anymore! I  _ was,  _ but now we’re here and we’re safe.”

The cloth on Tim’s forehead isn’t cool anymore, but when Jason shifts away to refresh it, the kid latches on like a baby monkey. Jason didn’t quite realize it was possible to cling to someone so fiercely while trembling the whole time.

“Can I get you a cool cloth for your head? Just something to cool you down, okay?” The arms and legs wrapped around Jason don’t move, and Jason heaves an internal sigh. 

How long does heat last? Three days? He remembers from health class that the first day is the worst, right? So if the kid falls asleep, Jason can just slip away. Tim will sleep off the worst of it, and wake up, and find his own back home. 

Maybe Jason will send off an alarm to the Batcave before he goes. They should have been monitoring his fucking heat; what if Jason  _ was _ someone willing to rape the kid? They might have just raped and  _ then  _ killed him, or  _ kidnapped  _ him out of the Tower and—Tim whimpers, and Jason slowly makes himself relax. 

“Shh, Tim, it’s ok. I’m—I’m basically your brother. You’re with family, you’re safe.” The kid snuggles deeper in Jason’s chest, arms and legs still clinging tightly. 

Carding a hand gently through Tim’s hair, Jason starts to hum a song he barely remembers. Tim’s breathing slows and deepens, and Jason thinks that maybe everything really will be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> And then Dick bursts in the room, because someone finally remembered Tim wasn’t home for his heat (it was Alfred, making appropriate snacks).


End file.
